


A Date with the Doctor

by Chellendora



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, One-Shot, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chellendora/pseuds/Chellendora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You shouldn’t have been surprised. A day with the Doctor was a day tempting fate—it was obvious the man could never have a real day off; not even Valentine’s Day.<br/>You/Ten</p><p>Prompt: "An Awful Lot of Running to Do"<br/>For: Lyric Sofer</p><p>[Written for Valentine Fic Trade 2012]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Date with the Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first story ever written for Doctor Who. (:

**_A Date with the Doctor_ **

The sun never set on Alpha Cloud 9, but the environment was altered so that one could still enjoy artificial sunsets inside the atmospheric dome, which were just as beautiful in your opinion. You stood on a bridge overlooking the water, the Doctor at your side. Stealing a quick glance you smiled to yourself. Your mother was crazy telling you not to go out with him—you certainly weren’t going to spend Valentine’s Day at home. Surely she would have a date that she planned to bring over and you had lost your earplugs.

Besides, who could turn down such a handsome man? You had only known the Doctor for a short time, but already you were smitten. Stolen glances, brushing hands, and other signs had you thinking that maybe it wasn’t one-sided. Valentine’s Day was as good as any day to find out.

“This place is beautiful,” you said with a smile in his direction.

You noticed that he looked slightly troubled. “Yes, it is,” he replied, “but this is not where I intended to take you.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “But doesn’t that mean that you’re needed here?”

“Weell…Normally yes.”

Frowning, you turned until you were leaning your back against the concrete border. The heels you were wearing already started to hurt your feet, but the silver looked so good with the emerald green of your cocktail dress. You watched—with no interest at first—as five planes flew overhead. You watched their progress all the way toward the center of the city, where stood the largest, most luxurious hotel in human space.

And then you watched as the bombs fell.

The next half hour rushed by in a blur. You remembered shouting, fire, smoke, and running—so, so much running. The Doctor ran for the hotel, you ran after him, and all around you people ran aimlessly out of fear. You struggled to focus your attention on the Doctor otherwise you would have a breakdown from the sheer volume of the chaos.

The bombs started around the hotel, but weren’t hitting the structure in the slightest. It wasn’t a stroke of luck however—the planes were deliberately avoiding the gigantic structure.

“We have to stop the bombs,” the Doctor said as he pulled you into an open elevator. There was a button for an unmarked floor above the last floor, but it required a key to be accessed. This problem was easily erased with one wave of the sonic screwdriver. The elevator rose steadily.

The doors opened into what looked like a control center overlooking a hangar. Two men sitting at the radios turned and stood when you entered.

“Hey! Who’re you?”

“I’m the Doctor!”

They exchanged a confused look.

“Doctor Who?”

“That’s the question, ain’t it?” you asked sardonically, but with a little laugh.

“Well, get out,” said the Doctor flippantly. When the men made no move to leave, he waved his screwdriver around until it made a menacing enough noise to scare them away.

Immediately, the Doctor took control of one of the radios. The pilots were reporting in about their objectives as they completed them.

“This is your Red Leader. Sound off in accordance,” the Doctor said into the radio. You listened over his shoulder as the confused pilots muttered—

“Are we following colors or numbers?”

“I think he wants us to be red.”

“But I like yellow better.”

“We’re _fighter pilots_.”

“Red 5, sounding off.”

The Doctor turned his head to look at you and said rather too simply, “There are five planes.”

“Give me that!” You snatched the microphone from him and clicked the button to talk, “Abort mission immediately! Abort mission!”

“ _Abort mission!_ ” resounded back from five pilots.

But there was no time to rejoice as you watched a herd of armed men moving across the hangar toward the control room. There were probably fifty of them at least. You gulped.

The Doctor grabbed your hand and you ran back toward the elevator, which was luckily still on the same floor. This time no key was needed.

“C’mon,” he encouraged and you climbed out of the elevator with him.

There wasn’t time for your mind to process what was going on, you just knew that you had to run. The Doctor held tightly to your hand as he led the way through the maze of halls in the hotel. At any other moment your heart would have been fluttering, but at this particular moment it was beating painfully against your rib cage. 

The Doctor led you around a corner and abruptly stopped. You bumped into his back and started to protest until you saw the group of armed men moving down the hall toward you. Turning quickly to go the other way, you froze as more soldiers closed in from that hall. Your hand was once again captured in the Doctor’s and he was pulling you back the way you came.

“Doctor!” you yelped as your heel caught on a snag in the carpet and you fell, wrenching your ankle around in the process.

“Your clumsy nature strikes!” exclaimed the Doctor as he helped you up. The sound of the soldiers was almost upon you. The man who held you steady looked around quickly, pulled his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and used it to unlock the closest door. He pulled you into the room, slamming the door, and then leaned his back heavily against it.

Wobbling on one leg you eventually fell against his chest, unable to stop your fall. “Sorry…” you muttered with embarrassment.

But when you looked up at him he was smiling that goofy-cute smile of his. Your mouth dropped open in silence but before you could speak, the army of armed men went stomping by the door. Out of fear, you inhaled sharply as you immediately ducked against the Doctor. His arms wrapped around your smaller form protectively, his head turned against the door so he could watch through the peephole. Your heart was fluttering wildly about in your chest, like a startled bird. 

Even when the sound of the stampede was gone he continued to watch. A moment later he turned to look down at you, grinning ear to ear. “We escaped!”

“Pfft, not yet!” But his smile was infectious and you soon had a small grin on your own lips. 

“Can’t run with a sprained ankle,” he said and suddenly scooped you into his arms. He carried you further into the room.

It was a typical hotel room with a king-sized bed, desk covered with an assortment of brochures and folders, and a tray of half-eaten room service sitting on the night stand.

“Doctor, this room is _ocupado_!” I whispered urgently, afraid whoever it was could be in the bathroom or return at any moment.

“Weeeelll…we’ll be quick!” the Doctor replied cheerfully as he adjusted his glasses. “And apologize profusely if the resident appears.”

He sat you gently on the edge of the bed and then went to what he assumed was the closet. You couldn’t see him, as the closet was around the corner in the entry hall, so you only heard the avalanche of items that he managed to dislodge.

Against your better judgment you began to laugh, tears springing to your eyes. “Don’t give me a hard time for being clumsy!”

The Doctor reappeared holding a small First Aid kit, his hair mussed and his suit tousled. He was glaring at you, but the pout on his lips made him look akin to an angry kitten.

“Aww!” you cooed with a smirk, aiming to tease him some more. But you had to admit he looked absolutely adorable.

He mocked you with his free hand as he knelt on the floor in front of you, setting the First Aid kit on the bed. He retrieved the bandage from inside and turned his attention to your swollen ankle. Now that you were looking at it you were surprised it didn’t hurt more than it did: It was as large as a baseball, covered in yellow, blue and purple bruising. The sickly yellow color made you want to gag so you focused your gaze on the Doctor, admiring that great head of hair of his as he wrapped your foot.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out suddenly. He looked up at you with confusion, but you had already averted your gaze. “I’ve ruined your Valentine’s Day…”

“I’ve had over nine hundred Valentine’s Days,” he explained. “Actually, I met St. Valentine; gave him some candy hearts. He didn’t get it, but I laughed.”

You laughed despite yourself, once again finding yourself in awe of him. “You are an amazing man, Doctor,” you told him as he finished wrapping your sprain. You leaned forward, capturing his face gently in your hands so that he had to look at you as you quickly said, with your eyes never leaving his, “Thank you for the most unforgettable Valentine’s Day ever.”

The look in his eyes had changed; his child-like joy was replaced with something older. He reached up and took your hands in his, his skin warm and soft.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he leaned forward, the space between you disappearing. Just before his lips touched yours he whispered, “It isn’t over yet,” and then closed the distance.

Shocks raced through your body, causing you to momentarily freeze. But this reaction was fleeting, because soon you melted against him and returned the kiss. Your fingers found their way into his hair, tangling around the soft brown strands. His arms were around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

And then you had parted, and were looking up in each other’s wide eyes. As he opened his mouth to speak you heard a sound at the door, and then it opened and there stood a couple and their two children, all staring at the strangers embracing in their hotel room.

“Who’re you?” the husband demanded in a deep voice.

“How did you get in here?” the wife shrieked as she pulled her children to her protectively. 

“Weeellll…” The Doctor stood and looked at the people for a moment, and then rapidly picked you up and ran toward the door. The family jumped out of the way as he ran through, apologizing, and then down the hall he went, toward where the army had come from earlier. 

You found the TARDIS were you had left it out in the gardens. As the Doctor opened the door, you heard a commotion from the hotel. You looked over his shoulder to see that the army of men had found you.

“Doctor!” you warned but there was no need. He ducked into the TARDIS with you and shut the door. He sat you down where you would be comfortable before frantically running around, pulling levers and pushing buttons.

You could hear the men surrounding the TARDIS now. The shouts were right outside, and then they were banging on the door like an angry mob. If your heart raced any faster you were sure you would have a heart attack.

Then a thought occurred to you: If the TARDIS left with the men touching it, wouldn’t they get transported with it? You weren’t sure what you could do to get them to back away, but the sound of the TARDIS’s departure was already resounding in your ears.

So you did the only thing that came to mind. First, you glanced over at the Doctor to be sure he was focused on the TARDIS’s doo-dads. Second, you hopped on one foot to the door, feeling the pain you felt as each jump jostled your ankle. You ignored it and latched onto the door. With a deep breath you flung open the door and screamed at the top of your lungs, “EXTERMINATE!” and then slammed the door. A moment later and the TARDIS was sailing through space.

“I’m not sure if I should call that clever or crazy,” the Doctor said as you turned around.

You smiled sheepishly, but replied boldly, “I learned from the master of doing the clever and crazy.”

The smile that spread across the Doctor’s face was unmistakably one of fondness.

An alarm began to sound. The Doctor whirled around on one foot and began pressing buttons. An image of a ship popped up on the small monitor.

“Who is that?” you asked, your heart rate beginning to climb again.

“Daleks.” The Doctor looked at you and you gazed back. After a quick moment of silent communication you both shouted simultaneously—

“ _Run!_ ”

* * *


End file.
